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“I’m sorry. It isn’t quite right.” I scrunch my face and take in the way my armpits bulge over the top of the corset.
“I think there are still a few more left,” Orshana says. She’s been the picture of patience and has been at least kind enough to have these options prepared. “Why don’t you try another?”
“Okay.” I slip back behind the dressing wall and release a breath as one of the centaurs-in-waiting helps me out of the top. The next dress is almost identical to the last one I tried on, but this one is midnight blue instead of orange. At least the color is better. Once I step out of the other dress and into the new one, the centaur laces the corset and I grunt as my body is deprived of oxygen.
I hate this.
His mother is so excited. So are his siblings. They’ve all been really patient and here to support me. It’s one night. Does the dress really matter? The centaur gives one last tug on the strings before tying them. I’m pretty sure my ribs are creaking, but I step out and model the dress, smiling.
“That’s the one!” Oretta claps.
“You look amazing,” Orshana says. “My son is so lucky to have you for a mate. Do you love it?”
“Oh.” I titter. “I think it’s my favorite so far.” It’s not a lie if I didn’t answer the question.
The eldest sister stands. “Great. Are we done?”
“Orlena,” her mother snaps at her.
“It’s okay!” I smooth my hands over the skirt and try not to shudder at the texture scraping across my palms. “This is the dress.”
“You’re sure?” Oraya asks.
I glance at the quiet sister, noting the way her eyes pinch around the corners as she scrutinizes me. “1000% sure.” I pause to take a much-needed breath. “This is it.”
Oretta, the most princess of the group, squeals. “Time for makeup then. Tell me, how do you feel about magenta?”
“Um. Not good?”
Orlena barks out a laugh and pats me on the shoulder. I stumble under the weight of her hand. “Sorry, Daisy. You’re so little.”
I rub the pain away. “No worries.”
“I’m going to go… do something,” she adds with a shrug, dropping her hand onto the pommel of the sword strapped around her waist. “Good luck with the makeup.”
“You should stay, Orlena,” her mother calls to her retreating back.
“I stayed for the dresses. I’m not staying to watch Oretta destroy Daisy’s face.”
Oretta gasps. “Hey! I’m great with makeup.”
“Did you look in the mirror today?” Orlena tosses a smirk over her shoulder then sets off at a run before her mother can scold her. The ground shakes but no one seems bothered or worried about the rocks crumbling down on top of us.
“She better not be late for the announcement,” Orshana mutters. She gives me a wry smile. “Are we overwhelming you?”
“It’s okay,” I say and sit in the seat Oretta directs me toward.
“You’re very amenable.” Oraya again with the astute observations.
“I’m just so happy you all aren’t awful and mean. Thank you again for being so kind,” I say to Orcus’ mom.
“Please, it’s the least we can do for Orcus’ mate.”
“Magenta eyeshadow with a touch of kohl around the eye. Maybe some subtle pink lipstick. Blush?” Oretta holds up a tin of pink powder.
“No blush,” I say, firmly opposed to that idea.
“Your cheeks are rosy enough already anyway.” Oretta organizes her things like a soldier might sort his weapons. She squints and studies my face before grabbing the smallest brush and the bright pink eyeshadow. “Do you trust me?”
